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His Majesty
🕑 Added 2021-05-02 21:31:11 +0000 UTC(For reference, Leon and Piers are trans in this, Raihan is cis)
“What’sa matter, you nervous?” Piers’ voice is a low, teasing thing in Raihan’s ear, his breath moving in a warm tickle across the unguarded shell. His fingertips drag across the freshly shaved fade of Raihan’s hair at the nape of his neck, sending a shiver through his entire body. Then they slowly wrap around the tie keeping the rest of his hair back, and as soon as Piers tightens his grip, Raihan realizes what it is.
A guide. A control.
“You’ve never been scared of him before, why start now?”
He can’t see Piers’ face, but he knows precisely the expression he’s wearing, the
hooked smile that curves the pretty pink of his lips into something wicked and suggestive.
Leon is sitting in front of him, above him, wearing the tight red coat of his battle tower outfit, and the front of the jodhpurs are unbuttoned. His cheek, normally stretched into a winning smile, is now resting boredly against his knuckles as he looks down at Raihan from his seat in the office chair that may well be a throne for the way he fills every inch of it. Casual, unflappable dominance.
Wordless, he reaches down and pulls a huge cock out through the front of his trousers, and even though Raihan knows deep down it’s silicone, there’s still something about it that makes him swallow back anticipation. His tongue is already softening in his mouth, his lips parting even as he stares at the fat, blunt head.
What does that say about him?
He doesn’t have the chance to contemplate it, because Piers’ fingers are pressing against his lower lip, and the hand in his hair is drawing his head back until his throat is fully on display. Over his lips, into his mouth, groping at his tongue and massaging into the back of his throat, Piers’ fingers give him no quarter until all he can think about is the burning gold of Leon’s eyes in the low light and the way Piers’ bony knuckles feel pressed against his front teeth. He chokes when fingertips tease into his throat, but Piers only pulls them out and chuckles into his ear again at the lewd sight of saliva stretching between them, before smearing it along Leon’s shaft.
“See? I know y’can manage. Now open up for the Champ.”
Raihan’s tongue slides out of his mouth on command, hanging low as he takes a shuddering breath in through his nose, and then wraps his lips around Leon’s cock and begins sucking.
He wonders what it feels like for him, the distant sensation of a mouth he can’t quite feel. Alternating pressure, probably—Leon’s actual body is under there, somewhere. When he presses his face forward, he can smell it; the tangy but undeniably masculine scent of sex and slick. Raihan tries to whine for it, wanting to bury his tongue in heat and heaven, but Leon is busy enjoying this...isn’t he?
His throat gives a little more, and he slides another inch down while Piers’ callused fingertips dig into the hinge of his jaw.
“Yer not bad as a cocksucker,” he purrs, and Raihan squirms in his kneeling posture as he feels that slim body pressing against his, firm hand pressing him down further until his eyes water, and his nose is pressed against the dark curls on Leon’s stomach. Does it feel good? He wants it to feel good, he wants Leon to enjoy it—it’s getting hard to think, with his air half cut-off like this, with Piers’ nude body slowly undulating against his back and the scent of Leon’s sex buried in his nose but unreachable. Warmth floods his veins even as he pulls back, gagging and choking thick strands of spit down his own chin.
He wants so badly to please, and the knowledge of it thrums hot in his gut, pushing his lust higher.
His own cock is tenting the front of his underwear now, but he knows he isn’t allowed to touch it. Not permitted, not yet. Perhaps if he does a good job, and that thought alone has him curling a desperate lick against the head of Leon’s strap, groaning before he tries to take it down again. Pushing himself against it, gagging but forcing his head to stay in place even as his throat begins to burn, he’ll make it work, he’ll—
Piers’ hands move away suddenly, replaced by the heat of Leon’s massive palms. Broader fingers, splayed wide in a grip that cradles the back of his skull rather than just his hair. Then Leon’s other hand slides beneath his chin, wrapping around the front of his throat, and he realizes with another muffled groan that Leon is holding him in place to feel it as he fucks his throat.
“You’re doing a good job for me, Rai.”
Leon’s voice is sonorous, smooth as it washes over him, accompanied by a steady press of those hips forward, his fingers pressing in until there’s nowhere for Raihan to go, and his throat stretches out around the cock filling it.
“Such a good boy, all you have to do is take it.” Another thrust, and Raihan chokes, a single tear spilling hotly down one of his cheeks and dripping into the mess of saliva already coating his chin.
“Don’t fight me on this—just, for once, don’t fight. Just take it,” Leon murmurs, and Raihan...does.
It’s as though something in him snaps loose, and all the resistance vanishes out of his body like water down a drain. Loose, it feels so good to be loose as Leon thrusts forward again and again, sending the world hazy.
Raihan still wants to lick him out for real, but in this moment, he’s perfectly content.
“That’s right, you were made to take me like this. This is right where the two of you belong.” Leon says it, and it’s already a fact.
Raihan’s lips rub against the silicone splitting them open, but he doesn’t care. Cornsilk hair dances across his back, a tickling ghost of a sensation to temper the feeling of his face being used, and cold fingers slide down the muscle of his abs to massage his cock through his underwear. One pleasure blends into another, until he can no longer tell where one of them ends and the other begins.
Later that evening there will be more delights; he’ll get to taste both the other men, and have Leon fuck into him while his own cock stuffs Piers’ cunt full, listening to the punk cry out in his raspy voice with both their names. He’ll feel Leon’s teeth in the back of his neck, those slamming thrusts forcing him over the edge until he spills every last drop of cum into Piers. He’ll belong to them in all the ways that feel best, and they will be his, too.
For now, though, there’s only this. Only the sense of belonging, and the steadiness that comes from kneeling before a king.
